#also coming back to edit to say I reread this for mistakes and like also forgot to mention the “waddya gonna do” contributes to it

[teamcavota]

i know lots of people have waxed poetics about the line and I'll make it clear I wont be saying much that hasn't been said before right now but

i just fucking love the line, "you're Cavendish, waddya gonna do?" it isn't just about the central thing behind the line which is that Dakota could not imagine taking any other actions than he has because Cavendish just means that much to him, but also because the line could have been "you're my partner/best friend, so waddya gonna do?" and purely highlighted the relationship aspect. however, with the line in the show there's an aspect of Dakota saying that if the world knew Cavendish like he did they'd all agree too ("he's Cavendish, waddya gonna do.") that Cavendish absolutely being worthy of what Dakota has done for him is as "objective" as the sky being blue.

[cowgurrrl]

Sleeping on the Blacktop

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Author's note: guys we did it i wrote smut i actually like (ps this was edited but also not reread because I’ve been trying to write it for five hours so if you see any mistakes no you didn’t)

Summary: The Land of No Return [4.7k]

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR MEDIA CONSUMPTION, platonic expressions of love, the mortifying ordeal of being known, sexting, we finally get to know about reader's secret tattoos, smut, Joel the Menace makes his long awaited return with that dirty fucking mouth, mutual masturbation, phone sex (??(sure)), protected sex (no Miller babies for them) p in v stuff, June being indulgent with describing Joel Miller, anxiety, I think that's it??

Music floods the kitchen as you and Andie work on making the best "last supper but with women" possible. The lamps glow orange on the walls and create funny shadows when you dance together, pulling each other in and out to old jazzy tunes. You laugh when she throws a string of spaghetti at your fridge to test if it's ready a little too hard, and it splatters water everywhere. You, honestly, might be a little delirious. You're both in your pajamas, and you've been watching movies all day. You exchange what you remember from New Year's Eve and cringe at what the other fills in. You drink cheap wine from plastic cups and snack on chips as the food cooks. 

It feels like high school again, with all the girlish giggling and inside jokes you trade back and forth, except this time, instead of her going back to her house ten minutes up the road, she's going back to her apartment half the world away. No matter how long you get with her, it's never enough. Thousands of miles and different schedules will do that. Keeping long-distance friendships as an adult is just as hard, if not harder, than making new ones. 

When dinner is ready, you fix your plates and sit next to each other at your messy dining room table— the IKEA one she helped you build when Henry walked out with the first one— and eat. Paint stains the wood of the table, and half-finished works are scattered around the dining room, but you barely notice them as you talk. She tells you about the things waiting for her in Vienna: work, her cat, Oslo, and piano lessons. You don't have to pretend to be envious because you are. You have to go back to school and the Real World once you drop her off at the airport in the morning. You wish you could go with her. 

"Alright, c'mon. Spill it. What's going on with you and Joel?" She asks in between bites of garlic bread. You laugh and shake your head.

"There's nothing to tell."

"Bullshit. Tommy told me he saw you guys."

"Speaking of Tommy," you pivot. "What's going on there? You two seemed pretty chummy." You raise your eyebrows at her, and a big smile takes over her face. She takes another bite of food to buy herself some time, but there's no way you're letting her off the hook, especially after all her teasing about Joel.

"Nothing. We were just… talking." She finally says, and you give her a look. 

"Talking?"

"Yes. People talk. You should try it sometime."

"Was it talking like we are now or talking like Joel and I talked?" You hum, and she kicks her feet as she leans forward.

"So you and Joel did talk." 

"Well, we probably would've if somebody didn't come barging in."

"Goddammit, I told him to wait," she groans. "Sorry, girl."

"Yeah, me too," you say, and she laughs. You bump her knee and give her a look. "Alright, your turn. What's going on with Tommy?" 

"Nothing that could actually turn into anything." 

"Aw, c'mon. Don't count yourself out so early."

"It's not counting myself out. It's being realistic. I live in Vienna. He lives here. I'm not ready to come back to the States, and he seems content, so there's nothing that can happen," she shrugs. "It was a fling. A very nice fling, but a fling nevertheless." She seems a little too sad for it to have been just a fling. They exchanged numbers, and you've caught her texting him several times. She said she did kiss him on New Year's Eve (before she threw up), but they didn't go any further besides flirting the next morning. You watched them test each other at breakfast, and he seemed just as interested in her as she was in him. They'd be cute together. She sighs and pushes her pasta around in her bowl like a dejected character from a period piece.

"Tommy is very handsome." You comment, and she grabs your arm, animating all of a sudden. 

"Dude, I've been dying to talk about it. What the fuck are they putting in the water here? It's insane." 

"It's annoying, right?" 

"So annoying." She agrees. You laugh about it together and, finally, give her the details she's been waiting so patiently for. When you finish your story, her hands are over her mouth, and her eyes are wide. "Oh, my God. You have to get him back."

"I know, I know! He's driving me up a fucking wall." You say, taking a bite of food. It will get cold if you don't stop talking, but you also don't care. 

"You could surprise him with some lingerie or something." She suggests, and you groan. 

"God, I don't even remember the last time I bought lingerie."

"All the more reason to buy some." 

"I don't know. I feel like I could just show up naked, and he'd be happy with that."

"He sounds like a keeper then."

"Yeah, I don't know," you shrug. "I like him a lot. I just… don't know if it's sustainable."

"Why?" She asks. You almost want to gesture around your messy apartment and half-put together life as if it will answer her question.

"I mean, he's a good guy, and we're having fun, but for how long? His kid's gonna be in at least one of my classes until she graduates. Not to mention, he has another daughter who is in medical school. We both work full-time. And then there's the whole having to keep it a secret thing. It could get really old really fast." You sigh. 

"What if it doesn't?"

"What?"

"What if it doesn't get old? What if it ends up working out?" She asks. You take a deep breath. "You didn't even think about that possibility. Did you?"

"I just don't wanna get hurt."

"That's a very real possibility. Things could go wrong. He could break your heart. You could lose your job. Society as we know it could come crashing down, and you know what? The sun's still gonna come up the next day. The birds will still sing, and I will still be here," she says, putting her hand over yours. You purse your lips as you process her words. "You deserve nice things, kid. Don't count yourself out so early." She echoes your earlier sentiment, and you smile.

She's right. Of course, she's right. You don't let yourself think good things could happen because you're so focused on all the bad. She's known you for so long she can read your thoughts and know your habits before you can. What a horrifying and beautiful thing it is to be known inside and out like that. 

"Maybe you should've been a writer instead of a musician," you say, and she laughs. You squeeze her hand and sigh as you look at her. "I'm really gonna miss you."

"I'm really gonna miss you, too."

"I wish you could stay."

"I know," she says. "But you need an excuse to come to Vienna, and I need an excuse to come to Austin, and if I stay, we lose that."

"I guess that's true."

"Besides, if I stop making trans-Atlantic calls, I think my phone company would be concerned." She points out, making you laugh. You know she's telling you what she's told herself this whole time. She loves Vienna, but you know she gets homesick. You know she's trying really hard to convince herself to get back on that plane. You don't push her about staying again. You just indulge in her presence. 

"I love you." You say softly, and she smiles.

"I love you, too." She says. 

It means so much more than just "I love you." It means, "I love you, and I want us both to eat well." It means, "I love you, and I can't imagine doing this life without you." It means, "I love you, and I know you have to go." Never any buts. Always ands, because love like this knows no bounds. Not borders, not time zones, not lifestyles. 

You finish the dinner you made and clean the kitchen side by side before climbing into bed and staying up as late as possible to try and get Andie back on Vienna time. In the morning, you drag yourselves out of bed and sing in the car on the way to get coffee, and when the time comes for you to get her suitcase out of your backseat and watch her disappear behind glass doors, you hug her tight and tell her you love her again. She repeats the sentiment with another squeeze and deep breath that tells you how close to tears she is. Then, she turns around and doesn't look back to prove she's strong enough to leave. She doesn't need to prove anything to you. You always knew she was strong enough to do this.

The car ride back is emotional and lonely and tinged with the bass line of Ribs by Lorde, but your phone buzzes as you pull back into your apartment complex with tears staining your cheeks. 

Thanks for letting us meet Andie. She's a really sweet person. I'm sorry she has to leave today.

You don't remember telling him what day she was leaving, but she might've told Tommy, and Tommy told Joel. You smile and text him back. 

Thanks for taking care of us. She only had good things to say about you and Tommy. We'll have to all hang out again the next time she's home. 

And then.

Thanks for checking on me. I really appreciate it. 

Of course. I'm always a wreck when I have to drop Sarah off at the airport. I'm around if you wanna talk. Ellie's hanging out with some friends, and Tommy's on-site today.

You stare at the messages and debate your options. He basically just told you he's home alone and has nothing to do for the rest of the day. And yes, he is probably being sweet and really offering to talk if you're feeling lonely, but you also know how talking usually goes for you two. You smirk as you type out a message.

Just talk?

It seems like he can't type fast enough.

What else would you wanna do?

I think you made some promises you need to follow through on, Miller.

I guess I did. 

Come over and I can do just that.

Actually, I have some work to get done :( maybe next time?

You lock your phone and bound up to your apartment, conscious of the sudden lengthening of time between messages. It's fun to imagine him trying to come up with a response that respects your boundaries but also lets you know how needy he is. He may have started this little game, but you're gonna be the one to perfect it. Thus begins the days upon days of not sexting, but not not sexting. 

At first, it's just messages about how you miss him and wish he was around. He tries to find an excuse to come over, but you effectively cockblock him at every turn. Your response times get a little slower the more worked up he gets, so he has to figure it out on his own. You never would've thought Joel Miller, a man with gray in his beard and wrinkles lining his face, could be such a fast texter, but you figure there's nothing more desperate than a horny man. 

Messages quickly escalate to pictures. They start off innocent enough: a picture of the painting you're working on, but your bare legs give away the fact that you're not wearing pants, a picture of him stepping out of a hot shower, his bare chest slightly red and glistening from the water, a picture of you wearing the burnt orange shirt he sent you home in New Year's Day with no bra on underneath. Then, you get a little bolder. After a quick trip to the mall, you pose in front of the mirror in a short delicate white night down with pretty lace details on the top, the hem barely hitting the tops of your thighs and showing off the large tattoos hiding there. You look hot, and imagining Joel's reaction to you makes you flush and rub your thighs together to get some relief.

It's true that Joel would've been happy if you showed up to his house wearing (or not wearing) anything, but when the photo pings to his phone, he's never been more grateful for Victoria's Secret in his life. His breath hitches in his throat, and he quickly tucks his phone into his chest like someone is gonna come up behind him and see what he's looking at. He's barely glanced at the photo and he's already straining in his jeans. 

Goddamn, he texts back. You're so fucking pretty, baby.

You like it?

It's a dumb question, but you really don't care.

It's perfect.

What do you like about it?

Besides the fact that you're the one wearing it? I like that it makes you look like more of an angel than you already are, and I like that I can finally see those tattoos you've been hiding from me. 

Bingo, you think to yourself. He was able to catch glimpses of the large pieces hiding on your back and shoulders at the art gallery, and when he picked up on New Year's Eve, you caught him staring at them each time. You thought he was following the inky lines up your body, but you couldn't be sure. Now, he's giving himself away, and you're practically buzzing with excitement.

You turn around in the mirror and arch your back, perfectly showing off your ass and the intricate tattoo lining your spine, and snap a picture. It's one of the largest ones you have, and it's also the easiest to hide. Besides, you definitely didn't get it for your own enjoyment. You live for moments like this. You send him the picture and smile as you type.

Like this one?

Your phone rings not even two minutes after he reads the message. You giggle when he groans into the receiver instead of greeting you.

"You're gonna fuckin' kill me, baby." He says, his voice so deep you can practically feel it rumble against your ear.

"I told you I'd get you back." You say it like it's obvious, but he just hums. There's shuffling on his end, and all you can do is wait for him to say something else.

"What else have you been hidin' underneath all those little dresses, hm?" He asks. "Tattoos. The most fuckin' perfect tits I've ever seen. Anythin' else I should know bout? 'S your pussy as pretty as the rest of ya?" You didn't mean for him to hear you gasp, but he seemed pleased that he could pull such a sound from you without even being in the same room. Just like that, any doubt or reservation you had left flies out the window. You finally cave and slip your hand down your panties to glide your fingers through your folds. "Am I makin' you wet, sweetheart?"

"Fuck," you mumble. It's absurd how turned on you are by this whole thing. Your fingers slowly circle your clit, and your head gets so fuzzy you almost forget to respond to him. "Yes, Joel." 

"Are you playin' with yourself?" He asks, and you nod even though he can't see you. "Poor thing. I wish I could be there to help ya. I'd have you spread open for me so I can touch you however I want. Figure out what you like and what makes you cry for me." You put him on speaker and throw your phone down so you can focus on gliding through your wetness, your middle finger pushing into you slowly.

"What... what would you do?" You ask, breathless. 

"I'd start by usin' my fingers just to feel you out, and I bet you'd feel so fuckin' good. I'd play with your clit until you're beggin' me to put a finger inside you, and I'd slip two in slowly while kissin' your inner thighs and watchin' you squeeze my fingers," you moan as you listen to his raspy voice and fuck yourself to his words. You try to imagine what his fingers would feel like inside of you. How different compared to yours, how much better they'd feel. Goddammit. "Then, I'd use my mouth on you while my fingers move in and out. I'd lick you all over and feel you soakin' me when I suck on your clit." He says, and you return to rubbing said bundle of nerves, faster this time, as you become acutely aware of his labored breathing over the phone. 

Is he touching himself? The idea of him holding the phone with one hand and fisting his cock with the other sends a wave of heat down your spine, and you keen into your own hand. A shaky breath and muttered curse leave his lips, and then you know for sure what he's doing. Your head spins, and you'd be embarrassed by how close you are just from his voice if you weren't entirely focused on the pleasure clouding your brain. 

"Fuck, Joel-"

"I know, baby, I know," he coos sympathetically. Another lewd moan leaves you as you get closer and closer to the edge, stars threatening the corners of your vision. "Are you gonna come for me like this?" He asks, and you hum in the affirmative, not trusting yourself to form words. "Come on. Let me hear you. I wanna hear what you sound like when you fall apart." His voice is coming faster and breathier, a light growl at the end of his words. How are you to deny him that? 

The speed of your fingers on your clit increases, but it's his own broken whimpers that finally do it. Your back arches as the waves wash over you, and noises you didn't even know you could make escape your lips. You can vaguely hear a broken sigh accentuated by a particularly hot whine from Joel's end. Henry was never as vocal or talkative as Joel is. None of your past partners have been. In the aftershocks of your orgasm, you have a quick passing thought that he might ruin dating for you. You might never want to see anyone else who doesn't treat you like this. You might be fucked.

"Joel," you say when you have control over your thoughts again. He takes a deep breath and clears his throat.

"Yeah?"

"Get the fuck over here now."

Joel's house is on the other side of Austin. With traffic, getting to your apartment can take anywhere from twenty to forty-five minutes, depending on how fast you're willing to go and how many red lights you can pass under. Joel gets there in fifteen. You're still in the flouncy dress you bought specifically to torture him, but by the time you open the door for him, you're much less interested in making his life any more miserable than you already have over the past week. 

He doesn't hesitate to charge into your apartment, grab your face, and kiss you like his life depends on it. His tongue sweeps over your bottom lip, and you open to him, clinging to him as his hands move from your face to the backs of your thighs to pick you up. You squeal in surprise and lock your legs around his waist to bring him closer and keep yourself from falling. Even though he obviously came over the phone at the same time you did, he's hard again and pressing against your bare pussy. He hisses when you grind against him, and his jaw clenches as he pulls away like he's in pain.

"Where's your bedroom?" He asks, wide eyes searching the hallway behind you.

"First door on the left." You say as you duck your head to kiss his neck. He sighs and indulges in the feeling of your tongue against his skin before he finally finds his feet and stumbles into your bedroom. You're halfway through marking him before he lays you down and immediately rucks his hands up your thighs, spreading them apart and making you whine. 

"You okay?" He asks, stopping all movement to scan over your face for any signs of discomfort. You nod and reach for the buttons of his jeans.

"Yes. Just need you." You say. 

"Are you sure?" 

"Joel, I just came from the sound of your voice. Yes, I'm fucking sure." You say, a little frenzied as you pull at the hem of his shirt. He laughs as he pulls it over his head and quickly unzips his jeans. 

"Feisty." 

"Can you blame me?" You ask, and he shakes his head. He tugs his jeans and his briefs down at the same time and unveils all of him to you in one go. He's beautiful. You knew he would be, but seeing the graying chest hairs and the pretty happy trail leading down to his hard cock in between his strong, tan thighs is an entirely different thing. You reach for him, desperate to feel the weight of him in your hands, but he stops you by slipping the tiny straps of your night gown down your arms. 

He carefully pulls the fabric down your body until it's pooled next to his clothes on the floor. His eyes fall to the black lines wrapping around your shoulders, and he draws his eyes to your collarbones and sternum, his breathing stuttering at the sight of you laid out under him. 

"So much prettier than I imagined." He murmurs as he ducks his head to kiss the valley between your breasts. You smile and run your hands through his curls as he mouths at your chest, leaving red marks in his wake and making you press him closer.

"How many times have you thought about this?" You ask. Has he always wanted you in the way you've wanted him? You're almost positive he has. There's no other way to explain the reverence with which he's looking at you. He's so wrapped up in you it's almost suffocating. Every time you glance at his face, he's staring at you with soft eyes and blown pupils. 

"Lost count." There it is. The confirmation. You grab at his ribs to bring him closer, pulling him over you to kiss him slow and deep. Despite the heat of him against you and the ache between your thighs, you both take the time to savor it. That is until his overthinking takes over. "I didn't bring a condom. Fuck, I was in a rush. I didn't think." He says quickly, like he's waiting for you to back out or push him away. You bring your thumb up to the worried wrinkle between his eyebrows and smooth it away, kissing his jaw.

"You think I would get you all worked up to not be prepared? C'mon, baby," you turn the nickname around on him, and he leans into your hand like a cat. "Top drawer." You say. He scrambles to your bedside table and grabs the first one he can find as you move onto all fours while he's distracted. You listen for the foil ripping and the subtle sound of the latex fitting over him. You can't stop the smirk from forming when he looks up and sees the sight in front of him.

"Fuckin' Hell," he mutters. Your back is arched perfectly, your hair gathered over your shoulder, and the tattoo you got done so many years ago is on display for him. "You are so goddamn perfect." He says as he presses his chest into your back and kisses your shoulder. He plants a few more kisses across your neck and back, making you wait longer than you already have, and just when you think you're going crazy, he slowly pushes into you and punches all the air from your lungs. 

He's big. Bigger than anyone you've been with before, and he seems to know that. He rolls his hips, and you moan, gripping at the sheets under you for stability as you adjust. His breathing is ragged behind you, and he groans when you involuntarily clench around him. "You okay?" He asks, his voice straining. His patience and self-control should be fucking studied. 

"Yeah, I'm okay." You assure him, and he nods. He starts to move slowly at first, but when you start whining and shaking under him, he snaps. You're both impatient. Months of following the rules and caring about what other people could think or say tumble out of your heads as he sets a rough pace. You've been dreaming about this and pushing it away since he walked into your classroom that day, and now that it's happening, you can't hide how desperate you are for him. You cry his name as he fucks into you deeply, no part of your bodies not touching, but it's still not close enough.

"You're so fuckin' good for me, baby. Jesus fuck," he moans into your ear, his uneven breaths echoing into your skull. "You feel so good." 

He sits back and brings you with him, changing the angle and forcing him deeper inside of you as his hand snakes around your waist and dips to play with your clit. You curse loudly and dig your nails into his forearm as bright pleasure courses through your veins. "'M gonna come if you keep doing that," you warn, your voice high and strained as he adds a little more pressure. 

"C'mon, honey, come on my cock for me. Please, I want it." It could be the slight whine in his voice or the fact that he's begging you for it, or the fact that the tight circles he's rubbing into your clit are making you see stars, but you come hard. You rely on him to hold you upright as he fucks you through your high, the slick between your thighs growing as his own orgasm washes over him, and he moans directly in your ear, an unexpected but not unpleasant gift. You think you could get off again just to the sounds he makes when he's coming. 

You stay like that for a second, wrapped up in each other and breathing hard with him still inside you, before he finally finds the courage to slip out of you with only a tiny pained moan. He carefully guides you onto your back, your bones jelly, and kisses your cheek before he pads off to the bathroom to throw away the used condom. 

It's quiet again in the apartment, but it's not lonely anymore. He makes himself at home in your space, asking if he can get water and snacks from your kitchen and walking around naked as the day he was born. "I wanna make sure you've got enough energy for round two." He says, making you laugh.

"Are you finally gonna make good on your promise to take your time with me?" 

"Fuck yeah." He says, coming back to kiss your lips one more time before walking to the kitchen. It's like if he goes a few minutes without tasting you, he can't function, or at least, that's what he makes it seem like. You're more than receptive to the attention and can only watch as he walks around. Your trust in your legs is not strong enough to get up just yet. 

In the domestic silence, it would be easy for your mind to run rampant with rogue thoughts and anxieties, but when Joel returns to the bedroom with snacks, bottles of water, and those stupidly sweet eyes, they get pushed to the back burner. He gets under the covers and pulls you into him, his warm body grounding you to this moment and not letting your thoughts stray. He presses kisses to your hair and your face every so often as you talk about everything and nothing. 

Somehow, it feels natural, like you've been doing this the whole time or like everything was leading up to this. Maybe it was. Still, you'll need to talk about this. You know you will.

Just... not yet.

TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha @cosmoscoffeee @shyminnie07 @beezusvreeland @eddiemunsonsbedroom @harriedandharassed @doodlebob-mp3 @ignorethisplz2004 @buckyispunk @d1lf-loverrr @vee-bees-blog @moel-jiller @anoverwhelmingdin @casssiopeia @maried01

[magics-neptunes-things]

One Love (2)

Hello everyone!

After several requests for Luna, here again. The requests can be found here, here and here. I know I haven’t answered all the suggestions you’ve made, but it gives me more ideas for other stories/chapters so it’s pretty cool right?

Also, I have absolutely not reread what I wrote, apologies if there are mistakes.

Enjoy!

(1) | (2) | (3) | (4) | (5) | (6) | (7) | (8)

______________________________________________________________

Lucy was looking at her girlfriend with pride. She was gutted when she learned that her team wasn’t qualified to play the Olympics Games, which was quite understandable. But now in her WAG era, she can’t be anything except proud of her girlfriend. She just has to shoot a glance at Lia to know that she’s proud of her own girlfriend too. Her friendship with her was unexpected to be honest. But when Ona mentioned that she could assist the final of the UEFA National League with the Swiss Woman, Lucy didn’t refuse. She didn’t know personally Lia, but some of her friends did and she always heard good things about her.

And since they had a great time together at Sevilla, Lucy proposed at Lia to watch the game together. They weren’t in the family section, but Lucy is wearing a Spanish jersey with the number 2 and O. Batlle written on the back. She couldn’t be more obvious than that. Lia chooses to be more subtle and was wearing a bracelet with Spanish color and Mariona’s number writing in white.

“She’s looking for you” Lia says to Lucy.

Ona was actually in the pitch, her eyes scanning the crowd. Lucy told her where she will be sat, but it’s difficult to see when the stadium is full like today. Laia Aleixandri came to hug Ona and exchange a few words with her, before starting to look at the crowd too.

“They are so bad at this” Lucy laughs.

“Mario didn’t find me either” Lia smiles.

But it doesn’t really matter, both know that they will find their girlfriends later for the celebration. Ona is disturbed in her research by Aitana, coming to jump on her back and taking her to go to the ceremony and be cover with her gold medals. Another one to add to the Spanish collection.

With a pout on her face, Ona let Aitana take her by the arm, leading her where they’re supposed to be. But Ona turns her head one last time and that’s when she saw her. Her face light up in an almost funny way and Lucy just wave at her. Ona wave back, making a heart with her hands before following Aitana, her heart lighter now.

***

Almost two hours later, Ona can finally go to the room where their family and friends are. She just out of the shower and her hair are still wet from it, but she just wants to see her girlfriend. She thought that now that they both live in Barcelona being away from her will be less difficult. How was she wrong. Being apart from Lucy is harder everyday and she can’t remember how she survived the long-distance relationship at first. Her being in Manchester and Lucy in Barcelona, they were way more apart than together. Even if they managed to have quality time, like the day when Lucy went to see her play, it was hard. And she was missing Lucy a lot.

Lucy’s smiling when she saw Ona and the younger one can’t resist and almost jump in her arms. She saw an edit of her almost crashing in Lucy’s arms at each beginning of games and Lucy teased her a lot about it.

This time, the English woman pick her and squeeze her hard in her arms, lifting her feet off the ground a few centimeters. Ona laughs and put a kiss in her neck, before being putting on the ground again.

“You were amazing. Like always. I’m so proud of you Ona, I swear” mumbles Lucy, stroking Ona’s cheek.

The brunette blushes, unable to keep looking at her girlfriend. Her smile is wide anyway and Lucy has to work on herself not to kiss her like crazy right now. She knows those kinds of kisses will come later, in their hotel room. Or Ona’s hotel room, in which Lucy intends to impose herself tonight.

“I love you” whispers Lucy in Ona’s hear after taking her against her one more time.

Ona looks at her this time, still with her big smile on her face.

“I love you too, Luce. I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for one million. Plus, I have my new bestie now.”

Ona follows Lucy gaze on Lia and Mariona, standing a few meters from them, and chuckle lightly. And, because she’s still in her girlfriend’s arms, she lets herself go a little more against Lucy. The dark hair woman kiss her hair softly before releasing her.

“Go say hi to your family, your brother is here and I think he misses you. I’ll try those margaritas. I see you later superstar.”

Ona pouts but let Lucy push her in the right direction. To be honest, she missed her brother, her sister-in-law and her parents too. She went for them under Lucy’s gaze, before the English woman went to the bar.

Lucy let Ona enjoy her night with her teammates and family, even if she knows a lot of them. She’s happy for the Spanish team, a lot of them are her friends too after all. She talks with Jenni with whom she hasn’t had much exchange since her departure for Mexico, but which she is happy to meet again.

She talked with Mariona too, Cata and Aitana. It’s only when she’s talking to Alexia about the new restaurant in their neighborhood that she feels a twist in her stomach.

“You’re not watching your girl, Bronzey?” asks Jenni with a smirk, cutting their conversation.

Frowning, Lucy immediately looks for Ona’s figure in the crowd. She spots her quickly in a corner of the room, talking with someone. Well Lucy wouldn’t have a problem with Ona talking to someone, but this someone having their hand on her girlfriend, it’s something else.

“Who’s this?” she asks Alexia.

The blonde looks in the same direction before answering. She frowns too and it piques Lucy’s curiosity. Usually, Alexia knows everyone, even from afar. No matter who this girl is, she still has a hand on Ona’s shoulder and holds her hand with the second.

The English girl feels her blood bubbling in her veins. She was never jealous before Ona, she was more the kind of girl who can let her girlfriend for a two weeks journey without her. She can’t even imagine this kind of things with Ona. It’s not that she didn’t trust her girlfriend, she knows Ona would never do anything like that. But she didn’t trust the world, who doesn’t seem to be able to resist Ona’s charm.

Lucy’s jaw is tightened when Ona looks up in her direction. But Lucy realizes immediately the look of distress from Ona. She didn’t need more, putting her glass in Jenni’s hands before crossing the room to take her girlfriend back.

“Hola” Lucy says when she’s next to Ona.

She heard them talking in Catalan and thanks to Ona, her Catalan is way better than it was before. Next to her, Ona seems to be relaxing and it’s only now that she’s by her side that Lucy realizes how uncomfortable her girlfriend was.

“Hola mi Vida” Ona smiles, before turning at Lucy’s opponent “Lucy, this is Maria. Maria, you know Lucy?”

Lucy can’t say if it’s because of her burning look, but the named Maria release Ona almost immediately, to their relief. Still keeping her eyes on Maria, Lucy takes Ona by her waist, dragging her against her body. But Ona let her do it, knowing how much Lucy can struggle with her jealousy sometimes.

Lucy learns that this Maria is here because she’s a great friend from Atheana and as Ona and Maria talked, she didn’t let Ona go. Ona’s hand finds their way to Lucy’s back pocket, the English woman smirking at the movement.

Atheana finally comes to take her friend back and If Ona says goodbye, Lucy only responds with a vague gesture of the head. Ona let a sigh of relief go, sticking against Lucy.

“Thanks for coming for me” Ona whispers.

But Lucy only grumbles, still looking at Maria who is now talking to Teresa. She only takes her eyes away from her when Ona kisses her jaw.

“Who was this bitch touching you?”

Ona flinches a little at the question, dragging Lucy’s attention once again. She doesn’t want to hide anything to her though, so she answers with all her sincerity.

“Maria. We… Well, we had a thing, some years ago” Ona confesses, looking carefully at Lucy’s face.

Lucy knows she doesn’t have the right to be jealous, Ona had a life before her, and she knows it. But still. Having her brain picturing her girlfriend with someone else is always something very disturbing for her.

“And why your ex thinks it’s ok to touch you the way she did?” Lucy groans

“I don’t know. I try to escape her grip but when I took a step back, she moved forward by two.” Ona answers, still looking deeply at Lucy, before asking. “Do you maybe want some fresh air?”

“Yes please”

Without waiting a little more, Ona takes Lucy’s hand to drag her outside. It was cold now that the night is well advanced and Ona shivers almost immediately. Lucy sees it, of course, and opens her arms in invitation for her girlfriend. The younger one doesn’t hesitate to stick to Lucy, who then tightens her arms around her, locking her with her in her jacket.

Rocking themselves lightly, Lucy let her lips slide along Ona’s temple. The Spaniard has her face against Lucy neck and really thinks she can fall asleep just like that. She can smell and feel Lucy everywhere and it’s her favorite place to be.

“When was it?” Lucy asks suddenly.

“What?” Ona mumbles almost sleepily, pulling her face out of Lucy’s neck.

“You and this… Maria”

“Oh. It was way before you.”

“Well, I hope so. I’d have to kill her otherwise.”

Ona giggles lightly, kissing her girlfriend softly on her lips. She missed this feeling too, Lucy’s lips are way softer than she expects at first. And she loves it.

“It was before Feli. In like 2018, 2019 I think” answers Ona after the kiss, playing with Lucy’s baby hair on her neck.

“And why didn’t it work with her?”

Her tone was less aggressive now, Lucy being genuinely intrigued by the answer. Ona almost never talks about her past relationships; Lucy isn’t even sure that she can name all of Ona’s exes.

“I don’t really know” Ona answers “We were young and the long-distance relationship wasn’t really for us. At the end we were just fighting for everything, anytime. It was really tiring honestly. She was the one who broke up, but it was definitely better this way.”

Lucy hums, looking at her girlfriend with a thoughtful gaze. Ona didn’t take hers away, her arms still around her neck. But then Lucy seems to come back to herself and tighten her arms around Ona’s waist.

“Well, she had her chance. Now you’re mine.”

********

Hours later, Lucy’s watching Ona came back to reality under her, a smirk on her face. They had their personal celebration after the official, Lucy following Ona in her hotel room. They didn’t really ask the permission to be honest, but as soon as the door was close behind them, nothing mattered.

Letting Ona catch her breath again, Lucy kisses slowly her cheeks, her nose, her neck and every part of her face. Soon after she can feel Ona smiling under her lips and that’s the moment when she kisses her lips.

“You okay Princesa?” she whispers against her lips.

“Couldn’t be better” Ona mumbles. “You?”

“More than that” Lucy assures her.

Ona smiles but doesn’t let Lucy gets up from the bed when the English woman try to, wrapping her hands around Lucy’s body. Even under the explanation that she was just going to get them a bottle of water, Ona doesn’t release her.

“I had to live almost a month without you. Don’t hope to take a step without me being less than fifty centimeters from you.”

Lucy laughs, lying again with the Spaniard in her bed. She lets Ona’s hand stroke her body, with much more tenderness and much less eagerness and almost despair than some minutes ago.

They look at each other, each of them in her own head. Ona is thinking about their time together from the beginning, the first time they really talked at Lucy Stanisford’s wedding. How she blushed when she cross Lucy’s eyes an awful number of times during the night, before Lucy came to talk to her. They immediately click together, like to part of the same orange. Lucy was everything she always wished for and she never has been so happy in her life before her.

In Lucy’s head, however…

“I’m going to marry you, one day.”

“What?”

In fact, Ona perfectly understood the words that have just passed Lucy’s lips.

“I’m going to marry you, one day.”

Lucy does not hesitate to repeat herself, without leaving Ona’s face. It’s not a question, rather an information she gives to Ona. The brunette didn’t answer at first, before biting her lips.

“Don’t say that” she whispers.

“Why?” Lucy says, a little louder than Ona “I thought you wanted to get married?”

They had this conversation some weeks ago and Ona confessed her desire to get married with Lucy and having a family with her too. It was something Lucy wanted to too, so Ona’s reaction is a little hard to understand for her at this moment.

“I do” the Spaniard answers, taking one of Lucy’s hands in hers to play with her fingers. “But my abuela always said not to talk about the things we want too often because it attracts the evil eye or bad luck. And what you just said... there’s nothing I want more than that."

Lucy holds back from rolling eyes in front of so much superstition, content to deposit a delicate kiss on the lips of her girlfriend.

"There is no evil eye, no bad luck, no one who will stop us. Don’t worry about that."

It’s hard for Ona not to believe what Lucy just said. Although the words were whispered, there is such a strength of conviction in each of them that Ona cannot doubt it.

"I love you, Ona. I love you so much and I swear I will fight for us every day of my life if I have to. You are my everything, no one will ever take that away from you."

Ona’s crying now, overwhelmed by so much love. She takes Lucy’s face between her hands and kiss her with all the love, the affection and the passion she has for her. She’s not sure that it proves almost the half of all her feelings, but she try.

And she will try maybe a lot of time more this same night.

[draculasfavoritewife]

El Hambre (Hunger)

Summary: Getting Miguel to take a break is a full-time job unto itself, and requires a little extra incentive.

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x fem!Spider!Reader

Warnings: Lots of suggestive talk. Miguel being an ass hehe. A risky make-out in a public space, idiots in love CANNOT keep their hands to themselves. I put far too much of my descriptive powers into talking about how devastatingly sexy Miguel is. Also for my intents and purposes, Reader understands and speaks Spanish.

Note: I use the shortened version of his name "Mique" in my own writing just because I personally prefer it. Swap it with whatever nickname you prefer in your head :)

This is one of my personal favorite pieces I've written, and still makes me giggle like an evil maniac whenever I return to reread/edit it. I have shamelessly watched every Miguel scene in ATSV far too many times and will continue to do so; his image is already tattooed on the backs of my eyelids. As mentioned in my HCs, reader is a spider-hero, but I left her pretty vague on purpose -- feel free to fill in her costume/powers/skill set with your own spidersona!

*Spanish translations at the end! (I am fairly bilingual, but if I made a lil mistake here or there do forgive me)

He hasn’t turned away from his myriad glowing monitor screens in nearly ten minutes, standing like a damn statue with his feet wide apart and hands braced on his trim hips, only lifting to sharply swipe through any screens that serve him no purpose. Each tiny shift of weight, the rise and fall of his ribcage as he breathes, all the little things that prove he is still, in fact, alive, cast soft highlights over the swell and dip of taut muscle, every part of him coiled and ready to explode into action like the perfect hunting machine he is. 

Right now, though, his eyes are burning from overexposure to even the dim interior of his watch station, and with an annoyed sigh he turns his face to the side, long fingers rubbing furiously at where the bridge of his nose meets his brow in the hope of chasing away the dull ache gnawing there. 

“You do know that even though I don’t have spider-sense I can still hear you, right?” 

You let go of your strand of web and drop lightly to the platform behind him, pulling off your mask and tucking it away. “What gave me away, the sound of me drooling as I stared too long?” 

Shocking hell.

You’re in one of those moods. 

Miguel can’t quite decide if he’s too tired for this right now or if he’s curious how far you’ll try and push him on his home turf. And it’s that indecision that starts him digging his own grave. 

“I was going to say the way your heartbeat spikes every time you set foot in this room.” His voice comes out sweet and thick as honey, because he knows exactly what that tone does to you when he uses it.

“...And I can still smell my clothes on you. Did you sleep in my shirt again?” 

“Maybe.”

Actually, you’d fallen asleep in a veritable pile of his clothes — it had been a bit since he’d had a free night, okay, and you weren’t desperate you just missed him. 

That makes him chuckle. He can probably tell you’re omitting the whole truth. 

Miguel finally turns to fully face you, and you inhale quickly as always, at the way he towers so far above your head, how his wide shoulders block out the light from his screens so his silhouette swallows you in darkness. His hair is messy, and there are deep shadows under his eyes, but his pretty mouth is slanted in a wry grin and the set of his thick eyebrows hints at underlying amusement. 

“Cute,” is what he remarks at your wide blinking eyes and rapidly heating skin, and it makes him smirk wickedly, to see how that one word flusters you for the barest of seconds. You’ve told him multiple times that you hate being called “cute” by anybody else, but ever since the first time the word slipped past his lips when he really realized just how much smaller you were underneath his body….

Well, he knows the effect it can have. 

You scowl and regain your composure. “Don’t call me that.” 

Miguel’s only response is an easy shrug, a lift of one shoulder. “What’d you bring me?” He nods at the containers in your hands. 

“Entitled prick.” With a dramatic flourish, you whip them away from his claw-tipped fingers. “What makes you think these are for you?” The exchange is back in your court with his query, and you intend to keep it there. 

“Aren’t they always?” Dark eyes zero in on yours, their softness in the gloom betraying what the gesture means to him even if he won’t say it. 

With a huff, you thrust the thermos and small box into his chest, pretending you don’t keenly notice the way the impact sends a ripple through his impressive pectorals. “Coffee. And those stupid little empanadas you love so much.” 

“Not stupid.” He takes them from your grasp much more delicately than someone with hands so large should be able to. “Don’t tell me you’ve never had a single craving for subpar food? Keeps me human.” 

He’s baiting you, knows that the words “not since I tasted you” are on the very tip of your tongue, because that’s just how your dirty mind works and he loves it. Can see the struggle on your face as you resolve not to say them aloud, and that almost goads him on more, to know you’re thinking it and just barely holding out so he doesn’t get the upper hand again quite yet. 

You settle yourself on a nearby console and gaze expectantly at him, swinging your legs. 

He gives you the side-eye as he sets your offerings down next to his work station.

“What.” 

“I’m not going anywhere until I see you eat something,” you inform him sweetly. 

Miguel groans. “Ay, loca, no eres mi madre. I’ll eat when I’m done running these last projections, okay?” 

You obstinately sit cross-legged on the console and make a show of getting comfortable for the long haul. “Then I guess you’re stuck with me, Handsome. I meant what I said.” 

He glares.

You glare back. 

Finally he opens the box with painstaking slowness — you see the way his nostrils flare at the scent of hot food, though you know he’d deny it — and he takes a large bite, maintaining eye contact the entire time he chews and swallows, each motion dripping with mockery. His tongue runs across the length of his upper lip far too sensually to be accidental, and you just catch the points of his fangs glinting in the partial darkness. 

“Better?” he drawls, dropping the empanada back in its container and leaning towards you. 

“That was one miserable bite! Doesn’t count.” 

His lip curls in a taunting sneer, and before you know what’s happening one of his powerful arms is on either side of you, his head cocked to one side as he studies you through half-lidded eyes. “Maybe your ears don’t work, Sweetheart. Tú no eres mi madre. ¿Comprendes?” 

You decide to change tactics. “Fine, fine. I’ll let it go. But —“ you gently push a few stray strands of hair away from his forehead, pausing to kiss the stress lines between his eyebrows. “— when was the last time you slept, Mique?” 

He rolls his eyes. “This morning —“ 

“For more than twenty minutes.” 

That makes him think. And by the way his gaze guiltily slides away from yours, he knows you won’t like the answer. “…When was the last time I stayed with you?” 

You sigh and cradle his strong jaw in your hands, thumbs massaging soft circles into his skin to get him to unclench his teeth. “That was four nights ago, Mique.” 

A long exhale escapes him, and he rests his head against your chest. It warms you, that he feels safe enough in the moment to let down his guard and actually show such intimate affection in his workspace. 

Or maybe he’s just that tired.

Either way, you’ll take it. 

You start working his back and shoulder muscles, kneading deeply into the firm knots where you know he holds onto everything — anger, grief, guilt, worry — Miguel does not talk through the mess in his head, preferring instead to let it fuel his savage strength. But when the adrenaline at last wears off, you know the toll it can take on his body. 

A sound halfway between a groan and a growl, and altogether far too suggestive for the time and place, rolls from deep in his chest and his hands tighten on the edge of the console, metal protesting as his talons curl into the hard surface. “Mierda. That’s tight.” 

“Should I stop?” You can’t quite tell if his reactions are spurred more by pain or pleasure.

With Miguel, the two often travel hand-in hand, anyway. 

“No.” To your disbelief, his hands uncurl from where they’re sunk into the console and travel to find your legs, teasing them apart so he can shove himself even closer and you have nowhere else to put them than around his waist, your heels resting just above his ass. “Keep going. Feels good.” 

“Someone’s touchy today, huh? And not in the usual way,” you tease, and then suddenly yelp as his hot, searching mouth lands right in the center of your chest, very noticeable through the thin material of your suit. One of his hands immediately clamps over your mouth to stifle any further sounds. 

“Cállate, Chula,” he warns, finally raising his eyes to yours again. You can see the crimson starting to smolder through in his irises, a sure sign that he’s giving in to having you right here in front of him, that you just might be a better use of his time than his projected calculations of multiverse-wide collapse.

He could use a break.

“You know people can hear you.” 

You push his hand aside. “Right, and that was totally way more audible than whatever sound you just made a minute ago.” 

“You know how I feel about it when you’re a brat to me,” he growls, snagging your lower lip with his thumb. 

“I think you love it,” you whisper, one of your own hands sliding up the back of his head, tangling your fingers in his dark hair. 

“I think that disrespectful mouth needs to be put to better use.” 

He hasn’t ever kissed you in his workspace before, and the forbidden feeling of it as he pushes you down on your back, pinning you to the console and stopping your mouth with his own sends a jolt down the entire length of your spine. Miguel has always been a wild kisser when he’s properly worked up, and you gasp out loud as his sharp teeth nip your lip, immediately followed by his tongue soothing the momentary sting. 

“I told you to be quiet,” he hums as he at last lets your mouths break apart. 

“You didn’t say you were gonna bite me, Cariño!” 

His answering smile is a wider one than you’ve seen in days. “Why would you ever assume no biting with me, Baby?” 

“…Fair point.” 

It takes you a minute to realize his fingertips are teasing the neck of your suit down bit by bit, leaving more and more of your throat exposed. “¿Qué haces, Mique?” 

He shushes you, this kiss a little more romantic and drawn out than the last. “You said you’d sit here ’til I ate something, hmm?” 

“Y-yes….” 

His gaze burns dark red and you suddenly feel the entire weight of him trapping you in place. 

“Well lucky you, pretty girl — you look a lot tastier than a cafeteria empanada right now.” 

He keeps one hand over your mouth as he attacks your neck, your shoulders, your wrists, anywhere that he knows gets a shiver out of you and that you’ve told him he can leave a mark. You try to keep still, you really do, but it's almost impossible with the Spanish endearments he mutters in your ears and the way his lips, teeth, and tongue take you on a seemingly endless rollercoaster of sensation. You hear him hiss once or twice when his onslaught makes your thighs tighten around his hips, but you can’t help it, can’t help trying to pull his body even closer, even though his heartbeat is already thundering against yours and your desperate breaths are rocking his lungs. 

When he finally uncovers your mouth again to let you take in more air, you splay your hands across his wide chest, prodding at the nearly-nonexistent layer of his digital suit. “Off.” 

“Mmm, I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” he murmurs regretfully, and to your dismay, he suddenly releases you, picking up the coffee you brought him and swearing briefly in Spanish when he realizes it’s not as hot as he wanted anymore. “They’re looking for you.” 

You sit up quickly at the sound of youthful voices echoing faintly in the corridors but getting closer — your spiderlings, no doubt, wondering what on earth took you so long bringing O’Hara his dinner. You’re a mess, you realize, hair disheveled and suit boasting several tears in unfortunate areas where his claws caught, the skin beneath already bruising wherever his mouth was. 

“Catch your breath,” he advises around another bite of empanada, with all the smug tone of a life coach having just witnessed a breakdown (as if he wasn’t the sole cause of that breakdown). “You’ll need it, to explain away all of that.” 

“I hate you, Miguel O’Hara.” You grit your teeth and slide off of his equipment, halfheartedly readjusting yourself and tamping down the rising tide of desire he had the audacity to start. “You and that fancy body glove of yours.” 

“Just because no one can see what your nails have done to my back doesn’t mean it isn’t there,” he offers flippantly, as if that will do anything to fix your current state. “And I know by ‘hate’ you really mean ‘violently need me to make up for stopping short’. I have to come by for some of my missing clothes later anyway.” 

Hope blossoms in your chest. “You’re coming over tonight?” 

A thoughtful sip of coffee. “Unless LYLA kills me first for making her watch us go at it. I’ll pick something up for dinner, too. And who knows….” He steps closer, his free hand wandering from your back all the way down to your thigh and up again. “Maybe, if you tire me out real good, I’ll even get some sleep like you want?” 

Anticipation bubbles through your veins at the thought.

“Yeah. I’ll be waiting.” 

He gives your hip a sharp squeeze. “Atta girl.” 

A burst of chatter below heralds the arrival of your little clan of doting spider-kids, so you gather your wits and swing down to meet them, praying none of them put two and two together and actually get four. 

Miguel glances over the edge of the platform, and barely hides his satisfaction and amusement at the immediate flood of concern and questions that greets you: “What did this to you?! Are you okay?!”. 

He almost considers coming down there and setting the record straight when he hears you say, “It’s okay, Kids, really, don’t worry about it. Just got chomped a few times by a giant angry spider while I was on a mission. But he’s gonna pay for it next time, I swear.” 

No eres mi madre = You're not my mother

¿Comprendes? = Understand?

Mierda = (Expletive)

Cállate, Chula = Be quiet, Cutie

Cariño = Honey, Sweetheart

¿Qué haces? = What are you doing?

[fruitybashir]

hey hello 👋🏻 i'm sorry im very shy but i'm a huge fan of the holidate and dopamin (closer) was so fantastic and super hot and i was blushing the entire way through, i've reread it maybe five times by now, i'm sorry if that's weird 🫣

if you don't mind me asking, i'm curious about something? in the holidate and in dopamin, there's obvious hints at some of their kinks or preferences in bed (hair pulling, praise....) and i'm just wondering......can you say more about what kinks they're both into? what you envisioned for them? is there more we don't know about yet? i'm a bit embarassed to ask but i'm so curious

either way, i'm a big fan and i can't wait to see what you post next and have a nice day/night bye bye 💌💕

omg hiiiii <3333 dont be embarassed omg i loveeee when people tell me they reread my stuff, thats how i know it actually was good!!! 🫶🏻💖💖💖

and sure i can talk about it! its nothing super exciting tbh but i do have a certain set of kinks/preferences/likes whatever you wanna call it for each of them, im gonna put it under the cut as per usual in case it gets long.

edit yeah this is getting super long. sorry. dont ask me to yap, i will not stop.

starting with kris:

the very obvious: hair pulling. i think that was made pretty clear lmao. in a non-sexual context he looooves having his hair played with, someone just running their fingers through his hair, lightly scratching at the scalp, playing with a strand or two, anything at all gives him very pleasant tingles and practically makes him putty in your hands. find that spot behind his ear like bojan did and his brain shuts off, you have now successfully tamed your kris, congrats.

in a sexual context that translates to him loving having his hair pulled, its a combination of him liking having his hair played with + liking a certain level of pain. and the combo of that really gets him off. obviously.

pain for kris is like. hes into some level of pain, like the hair pulling and he also likes biting sometimes. in dopamin thats bojan biting his butt, but i imagine sometimes when bojan takes his time exploring kris' body, he takes a bite here or there, kris' neck, the sides of his stomach, the inside of his thighs .. stuff like that and kris is also really into it then.

hes not into any bigger levels of pain other than that like he wouldnt like stuff like spanking etc although thats a combination of not liking that type of pain and not liking being in a submissive position

next point: he doesnt like being submissive. its both just a preference thing plus not liking loss of control. he loves being the one to order the other part around and be the one to kiiind of have the upper hand. im saying that a bit vaguely bc he also isnt really a dom, he wouldnt like a very strong dominant role, he just likes calling the shots and being in control of the situation. idk how to put it. ill come back to this later

hes freshly discovering that hes into feminization, as you can probably tell from that last upload lmao, and he likes it both in a non-sexual and in a sexual context. he likes feminine words of affection, being called pretty, likes thinking about how in certain perspectives and moments people might mistake him for a girl, and he could have shopped online for lingerie thats specifically made for men, and buy panties that actually had some space in the front, but he deliberately chose not to do that, he wanted it to be girls underwear. that was important.

holidate kris is definitely not fully cis, but also not really trans either i think, idk what to call it but yeah. he might be a little trans, hes having some thoughts and feelings and maybe ill let him explore that properly one day but basically he doesnt really know what to make of it yet or how to categorise it, but he knows he likes himself exactly the way he is and doesnt want to change anything. he also likes getting called girl-ish things and thinking about how people might mistake him for a girl sometimes. idk

other preferences uhhh he really likes sucking dick lmao, like he genuinely enjoys going down on bojan and it gets him all worked up as well. he just figured out he loves getting eaten out. he doesnt like bottoming and he also doesnt like getting fingered all that much. and the thing with that is that he likes having things in his ass, but he doesnt like the uhhh motion of it? having a dick in his ass is fine, having that dick thrust into him is a big no no. the lucky thing with bojan is that he has really short fingers so when hes fingering kris, hes focussing on kris's prostate and doesnt move around all that much so that is still something kris enjoys. on occasion. he also generally doesnt like coming more than once, bc he tends to be very sensitive after his first orgasm and the second one is often very overhelming and too much

moving on to bojan:

also fairly obvious: likes being manhandled, likes being told what to do, big on getting praised. he also loves servicing and making kris feel good, it genuinely gets him off when he can just worship kris a little.

bojan loves both receiving and giving oral but he really loves bottoming and coming on kris' fingers. he loves getting a little overstimulated like getting teased for a long time before getting any proper attention so by the time kris finally goes down on him or fucks him, bojan is already shaking with it and desperate. or in the way like in dopamin, literally not being able to fully calm down in between orgasms and still being super sensitive from the first one.

i think the praise thing is pretty self explanatory, he really loves getting praised for doing a good job when he follows kris' instructions, loves being called a good boy, loves when kris keeps telling him how good hes being in general, its a major thing for him

he loves getting fucked classic missionary or riding kris, they tried doggy once but he didnt like not being able to see kris and touch him. he loves watching kris' face when he comes and also before that, he just loves fucking face to face.

also he would love for kris to make real on his promise of fucking his tits, neither of them knows how that would work but bojan is heavily into the idea of it

as for both of them:

ive said it in dms earlier but basically like. theyre both still kind of vanilla with their kinks? like there is a dom/sub dynamic there but its a very mild one kinda.

like how in dopamin kris tells bojan hes gonna make him come on his fingers and then give him no break after, but later he still does give him a break and checks with bojan if hes still okay with it, if its too much etc. or how he keeps telling bojan to use his words, but always forgives him when bojan cant use his words or is too embarrassed to say what kris wants him to say. like theres never any real consequences.

and thats the thing with them: they are so in tune with each other and have a level of trust for each other that they never had with previous partners. bojan likes being bossed around but he wouldnt like if anyone was actually mean to him, hes not into humiliation or being actually punished for something.

kris knows when he says it that its all empty threats and he would never give bojan any real consequences, and bojan knows this as well, but he would also never intentionally misbehave bc he likes following commands.

they work so well together like that bc theyre both fully aware of what they and the other wants out of it, they know the others wishes and boundaries and limits etc, like there is just a level of trust and understanding between them like no other.

also theyre super in love. did i mention that. does that come across. thats not a kink thing but theyre just super mega in love and thats so important to me.

uhhhh i think thats basically all there is to them kink wise ✌🏼 sorry this got so long, oopsie

[nicegaai]

im attempting my fic reread today. im announcing this bc i will be liveblogging to keep my morale up, NOT THAT anyone cares but i personally need this, like ill only commit to do the thing if theres an imaginary audience holding me accountable. & i like to have fun :3

anyway. captains log, its a beautiful sunny july weekend. i just finished my morning coffee, and, i am dreading this so much. i dont like rereading my own writing but i shall get over it. ok here we go.

Þetta Reddast vagueblogged directors commentary edition

Ch 1:

*opens fic and starts convulsing immediately* god i wish i smoked weed rn. i cannot chill out ever for the life of me

My Mission For Today Is: to remember what plot threads I’ve left hanging so I can resolve this story properly. And also try n remember where the flow is going. I have the end plotted out, I just am a little lost … it’s been a while :-(

------------

Abrupt beginning!!!! I’m not mad because I have . I HAD. Almost no writing experience when I started this. it isn’t ideal but I refuse to be one of those fanfic writers that starts rewriting early chapters without finishing the last ones. Ive never seen one of those types actually finish a longfic. …I’d already rather yap than actually read LMAO AHH

Oh this is worse than I remember. thats cool that s great ok alright *coughs up blood*

"20 somethings" WOW I really did not know where I was going with this when I started huh

LKJSDLKSJDLGKGDJSLDGJK ??? Who authorized this. Who let me cook. What the hell

I could write this better now. I could edit this into something beautiful. <- devil on my shoulder

FORGOT I WAS MAKING RICE BRB

"generously offered nothing to the exchange." wait STOPPPP. I’m so funny

GRAMMAR ERROR DETECTED why is there two periods. I’ll be coming back to fix that …………………. :-(((

Fuck. This is a lot. Marge Simpson Hiding Her Face dot Png

Oh this is stupid this is gayyy this is fukcinnn . Who fucking did t his. What was wrong with me,. This is so good actually. what was i ONNNN. 

Im gonna throw up and I don’t know if thats like/. A complimentary thing or if im just cringing that hard . Im feeling emotions. I love my OTPs..OT3~5? I love them so so much

Ok as much as im like “eww bad writing” this is .. dare I say, rly good in places. Not to suck my own dick but maybe all hope isnt lost and imposter syndrome is an illusion

Grammar mistake #2. Goddddddd. they should ban me from the archive for this

EMILLLLL EMIL EMIL EMIL HIIIIII BABYYYY EMILLL I LOVE UUUU AWWHUUGHH everyone clap for my bewoved baby bruvver right FUCKING now

Urghhh gritting my teeth… Im fully expecting the flow of events to start not making any gd sense. There’s no way this came together the way I hoped in my head and .... For real I was never able to read this all the way thru. this is my first time, lol. and it was all disjointed on the authorial end to say the least. Im scared T-T

Jlxjvklsdkjfsjlkdkjlsjklkljzsdkjlgaskljdgjklasljkgdljkasljkdgjklasjlkdgljkaskljdgjakl?????????? 

Im not liking the ratio of dialogue to whatever the other stuff is. scene-setting I guess. prose maybe. i could have dragged this out way longer... By which I mean made it a more satisfying read. But WHATEVER !!!! 

TIMO !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! TIMOOOOOOOOOO NUMERO UNOOOO DO MUNDOOOOOO I really need to utilize him more. As soon as I finish this fic I need to write a Timo POV spinoff where he gets cancelled on furry twitter for proshipping in real life

Hmmmm chapter ending didn’t hit as hard in practice as it did in drafts. Oh well. God damn that was a lot to happen in one chapter LMAOO???

OH SHIT MY RICE IS STILL COOKING —— 

[my-castles-crumbling]

Hi Cas!!!

Recently i wrote a poem and decided I loved it and send you an ask with it 2 days ago but i think it got lost or smth.

Little backstory here so I live in a family full of artists and very creative people so sharing my work always made me self concious since I always compared my work with theirs. Turns out I also have a problem with openly sharring my work with others which is a bit of a problem considering I need to do share my work for school. Because of that I've decided to share my poem with someone cause I'm really proud of it but I also want someone to tell me their honest opinion/feedback. So here it is I guess??? Also english is not my first language so sorry if there s any mistakes 🦖

Earth breaking beneth my feet

Hands holding my arms

While pushing me down

Sinking into the ground

Divine paintings flashing before my mind

Their meanings going up my mouth

Watching me choke down all the noble words

Blocking their way out

Only to laugh

As the Devil listens to all the broken sounds

Coming from my eyes

Crimson tears staining my cheeks

Honey dripping from my lips

Straight into a vase near my feet

Angles are gathering the golden liquid

Collectiong memories I missed

Reminding me things I did

That are straining my guilt

People I left forgoten

Are sitting faceless

Waiting for my jugement

God is listening to everyone

Except for me

As I bleed out on a light floor in front of him

Staining red everything I could see

While room fillds with blood

That's comimg from my wounded heart

Drowning me

Ending my tortures

While our outstanding preformance goes on

The capitol's laughing

The kids are dying

But why do I care?

About them when I'm away

Maybe these scary meaningfull portraits

Maybe paintings that left me empty

Are happening somewhere on Earth

Someones mother is dying

But all we do is drink honey

Someones child is fighting

But all we do is play a song

Song of Army Dreamers

And say 'scary things happened years back'

While ignoring the fact

That those things are also happening now

Somehow I made a poem about war with my religious trauma, Kate Bush reference and few Crimson Rivers references. Thats cute. When im rereading it now it seems a bit silly and kinda looks like i tried using 'big words' but i still love it.

Also the way you ate up last Caledenstine(HOW TO WRITE THAT????😭) chapter??? Ate and left no crumbs? Yessir. I support Regs rights and wrongs even if his wrongs are treaky(?) sometimes and make me want to hit him with a paper (just jk i would probably hug him and then make him some good soup)

Losts of love for you and your wife and your cat(s) (pretty sure you have a cat or two but maybe im mixing people???? Prolly should go to sleep but this was more important for me?????) Hope your sleep shedule is better then the rests of the fandom tho you are a teacher, an ao3 writer and a trumble user so its probably not the best while school year but still! 💃All the best ❤️

Hi hon!!! Your original ask was actually next on my list lol but I'm responding to this one because you added some things.

Damn, that ending though.

And say 'scary things happened years back' While ignoring the fact That those things are also happening now

This is SO real, and so poignant. You absolutely should share this with others, it's a very powerful poem. I love the imagery you have throughout. Please don't compare your work to others- art is supposed to be unique, you know?

hahah yeah Reg is in his Rep Era rn I feel. I'll not elaborate more.

My sleep schedule is...well it's 12:30am and I am not planning on sleeping for a while, as I need to edit and then post the next chapter. By the time this ask is posted (I'm scheduling it) the next chapter should be out! yay, summer?

Sending you all the love!

[horrorhot-line]

Heyyyy, I just wanted to say I'm so excited for the friends to lovers to come back out. You're an amazing writer and I have loved the series for awhile. I also really appreciate that you are still making the reader relatable for everyone. That makes me so happy, oh gosh I'm just so excited for it. Thank you for rewriting it instead of just getting rid of it, it makes me so happy to know I will be able to read it again. You deserve nothing but positive and appreciations for your writing.

-Lot of love,🦝

PS. Sorry for any grammar or spelling mistakes I suck at that stuff 💚

I'm just rereading and editing the first part of the friends to lovers series, it'll be posted in a few hours so I hope you'll enjoy <3

you are too nice lovely raccoon, I can't believe how many people have supported me for such a long time and I am very grateful for your support, also you don't have to thank me for making reader relatable! I would never dream of taking that away cause then the reader is just an OC or self insert, and I feel like you deserve to have the reader as vague as possible so you can read and imagine the setting instead of being reminded that you're reading a story (it's happened too many times to me where I've read a story and every other paragraph I'm reminded the reader is nothing like me ;-; I know the pain) so I can't wait to show you what I have in store, gives me a chance to correct grammar mistakes and maybe make reader even more relatable <3

thank you for sending off anon and giving me so many compliments, what did I do to deserve this ;-; also don't apologise for the grammar it's on point and I understood everything <33333

[camillescreations]

EDIT: I've edited some points because I've watched the trailer more and understand things a bit better! So reread if you want!

So loved the trailer but I don't really feel like doing an in-depth analysis like I did for the teaser, so I'll just point out some things that I thought were interesting!

1. Stede is adorable and looks great in his outfits, I love his "I didn't dump him," and "we're on a break." I also love how it seems like people around Stede are teasing him about his rocky relationship. And on that note I'm SO EXCITED to see how Stede tells the crew (or maybe just Olu?) about what happened on the beach!

2. Ed is equally adorable and I love the hint that he'll be a total bitch to Stede for a while lol

3. Izzy is missing half his left leg! Huh. I know people speculated it but it's cool to have confirmation! The missing toe must have gotten infected. I wonder if that will play a part in Izzy realizing he made a mistake in bringing Blackbeard back.

4. Stede saying he's been a failure his whole life really hurts my heart

5. There's a scene of Stede in his Chinese garb looking horrified at what the Revenge looks like. This must be after the storm damaged it. Poor guy

6. Izzy and Stede training together! Love to see it. I'm excited to maybe have a reason to like Izzy more and see Stede become better at... well a lot of things lol

7. STEDE EARRING STEDE EARRING I wonder who pierces his ear, I hope they show it haha

8. Ed standing on the rocks with what people have speculated to be Hornigold, or his ghost, I wonder what the context of that scene is

9. There's the bunny from the poster! (Note Ed says "new best friend," hinting Stede isn't his bestie anymore aw). I wonder if this is from Ed's island days or maybe when he's trying to figure himself out again (aka the trying something new scene?)

10. What kind of wound does stede have on his shoulder when he's tied to the mast? Doesn't seem to be a stab wound, it's more of a hole. Bullet perhaps? Hot cigar burnt into his skin?

11. Seems like the "torture" scene may be comical after all? It looks like Jim is smiling?

12. In the scene where they're on the "torture" boat, seems like before the "torture" happens, Stede is smiling! Good to see him happy for a moment, since pretty much every other scene he hasn't smiled lol

13. Who is this weird-nosed character? Is he the villain of the season? Seems like he's leading the Navy officers, so probably.

14. WEE JOHN LOOKS SO GOOD IN DRAG OMG WHAT A QUEEN

15. Jim and Olu are together again awwww

16. Why is Stede running along the shore? Is he running to someone? Ed perhaps?

17. Yeah that headbutt from Ed was definitely on purpose 😂 But we love to see bedside vigil worried Stede! Is this where they officially reunite?

18. LOOK AT SWEDE THERE HE ISSS BABYGIRLL (so is he one of Jackie's husband's now?? I'm excited to see the story of how he ended up working at Jackie's lol) Also his little "are you poor now?" is so funny

19. I love how Ed sputters after taking a puff of the joint or cigar or whatever it is, shows that he's not used to it lol

20. The Ed crying scene probably happens around the same time that the painted cake topper scene does, since we see the bride topper in the right corner. Also I really want Stede to find the cake toppers (or at least Ed's if Ed throws the groom overboard)

21. When Ed says "no more booze, no more drugs, and no more" the "Stede" at the end is clearly not from that same line. So I wonder what he actually says at the end?

22. What are Stede and crew escaping from during the crossbow scene? I've watched the trailer again and I think they're firing the crossbow for the zip line rope! And they're escaping from a ship to the Revenge. I hope Stede gets to shoot the crossbow!

23. The "you two know each other?" scene must come around the same time that Stede reunites with Ed after Ed is hurt, since Ed has the same split lip. Or maybe the headbutt scene comes after that? I'm not sure. I would bet that the headbutt scene is first.

24. Why are Jim and Olu and that other person warding off vampires lol

25. We finally see a glimpse of Lucius!! In the scene where he and Frenchie are under a log. He has a beard now! We definitely know it's him becouse of the wooden finger. Yay the boy is back! Can't wait to see how he survived and the Lucius x Black Pete reunion!!

Anyways that's all, I'm even more excited for the new season now and I hope we get a clip or two or more photos! But we only have 3 weeks left guys hang in there!!!

[sig-nifier]

21, 23

21 - a piece of my writing that i liked, but had to cut

i actually don't keep drafts of my writing, so i normally only have the finished product. (i also never edit fics, what i post is usually the first draft and i'll reread it once, fix any mistakes and go eh good enough) having said that, i do still have a line from make you feel alive that i never included

"John believes that if you're most likely to be shot down and killed everytime you do your job, you have to make the most of the time you have.

Gale would agree, but he'd also argue that a man is less likely to be shot down and killed if he flew like a sane human being.

Bucky doesn't see the fun in that."

23 - a piece of my writing that was inspired by a work from another medium (music, visual art, dance, etc.)

i nearly wrote my uni disseration on a series of conversations with an alien, where the alien learns about life on earth. it was going to be about really simple or broad things like birthdays and standing in line and that kind of thing, but i only ever wrote one conversation. it was about friendship, and it was heavily inspired by the 1986 film stand by me.

(i was going to post just a snippet but honestly i really love this and someone should get to see the whole thing)

The alien arrives on his doorstep, suitcase in hand, and says; “I’ve come to learn about humanity.”

Friendship

I never had any friends later on like the ones I had when I was twelve. Jesus, does anyone?

“Well?”

The alien is sat cross legged on the floor in front of the TV. A mug of tea – teabags had been fun to explain – is clasped snuggly within their six fingers. “I’m not sure I understand.”

“I – what’s there to understand?”

“This is a well-loved film among your people?”

“It’s a classic, yes.”

They turn from the television screen to look back at him. “A classic?”

He waves a hand, wafting through the air to try and locate a better definition. In the end, he simply settles on; “well-loved.”

“But why? What’s the message?”

“Films don’t always need a message – but this one, I suppose, is about treasuring friendship, or something like that.”

“Treasuring friendship.”

“Appreciating the friends that you have, yes.”

The alien shuffles (rather badly) to turn their body away from the screen and face where he sits on the sofa. Tea sloshes over the edge of their mug, but if they notice they do not show it.

“And what is the purpose of a friend?”

“Well, that’s…hm. The purpose of a friend is to be a friend. It’s sort of a broad but simple term.”

“What do friends do?”

“They spend time together, for one.”

“Why?”

“Because they enjoy each other’s company.”

“But what’s the point?”

“The point?” He sighs.

“What do you gain?”

“You gain their friendship. That kind of is the point.”

“But why?”

An alien, it occurs to him, is sometimes no more than an exasperating child. Their innocence is so pure, their lack of knowledge something to be defended, and yet it is every parents wish that their child would grow wise fast, with the outcome being that they never again have to hear the phrase but why.

“Because it’s nice, having someone who you have no real loyalty to – hanging out with someone you like just because you like them and share some kind of mutual, unspoken promise that you’ll keep on liking them for no real reason other than you just do.”

The alien considers this, tapping an uncomfortably long finger on the side of their mug, and he prays to whatever God he doesn’t believe in that their next words won’t be another question.

“Are we friends?”

Well. That was certainly unexpected. He supposes caretaker would be a better word, but the alien is looking at him so expectantly and hopeful.

“Yes, of course we are.”

The alien seems pleased.

“Does it make more sense that way?”

“Yes, I think it does.”

[cx-boxbox]

I’ve been asking ppl cus im a nosy bitch. What’s your writing process like if any? Do u have a preferred place or time. Preferred device. Do u write rough drafts then edit or is it much more considered. How do u decide that an idea is worth fleshing out or pursuing if it looks like it’s plotty. Pls yap at length — wiz

Well… I usually just make a doc when I find inspiration, and if I’m not seated at my computer, I’ll do it on my phone, even if I’m walking somewhere. I need to use Times New Roman, 12pt, 1.15 space with a 15pt gap after each paragraph. It’s really specific, I know, but it just looks the best to me and the spacing is the most accurate to how it looks on Ao3 so!

My preferred device is my computer, but I’ll write on my phone if I have to. When I’m on a plane, I’ll definitely write on my phone. It helps pass the time, but sometimes I’ll look back at what I wrote and go “wtf did I just write”. Any other time, I’ll try to be on my computer because it’s just easier to type as fast as I come up with the words. As for my preferred time, it’s usually late at night lmao… I’ll be writing, check the time, and then promptly close my computer to go take a shower. I wish my preferred time was not that time, but inspiration strikes when inspiration strikes.

I write a draft and sometimes it’ll be disjointed scenes that I connect terribly (this meme describes it pretty accurately). And then I try smoothing the bridges as well as I can, catching errors or whatever when I reread it. And then I do my final checking on Ao3 because I use rich text and it does some weird thing to my fics where they add spaces before and after italics when there’s punctuation right next to it? So I just hit preview and then whenI go back into edit, all the weird spaces are there for me to get rid of. That’s also when I try to catch as many mistakes as I can right before posting.

I highly recommend other writers do the same, if only so they can feel the best about their own fics without any pesky spaces.

Usually, I’ll try to see a fic to the end (my many wips are laughing at me as I write this) and sometimes plotty things are easier to write than back-to-back-to-back porn, which is why I embarked on this landoscar side quest… only to write more back-to-back-to-back porn.

I think that’s all I really have to say. @wisteriagoesvroom you’re a blessing and I’d love to hear you yap about your writing process too!! 💜💜💜

[khaleesiofalicante]

Okay, yes, I am a little back, but bear with me, humor and rereading is my copying mechanism to get through all this pain 😭😭

Who did you find? Who is it? Who made you think they are good enough to take the place David holds in your heart? What the fuck happened to having standards? Max when other Max keeps visiting David: why can't he get a life and move on 😡 Max when Other Max doesn't come around: who tf does he think could replace David with??😡

My life is way better after reading that kiss, marry, kill- Warlock Council edition from my immortal gang😂

Magnus really hoped Max would grow out of it one day – that he wouldn’t be stuck on the same thing and same people and same life. LMAO YOU WON'T BELIEVE THIS…

Kincaid's pov really is the saddest thing ever why does this boy think with such pain and beauty at the same time???? Also I'm obssesed with how Kincaid's worst fear is that no one will ever know he loved Arthur.😭 Not dying. Not losing him. People not knowing how much love he has for him, because it consumes him completely :))

I also wanted to say how much I loved when Rafe was thinking about Cami's generation, and how they thought of everything that happened with the Devlins only as a story, not something to be feared and learned from. And how shadowhunters, in their desperation of forgetting, fixed everything a little too fast, not really bothering to heal, or learn really process what happened. How that would affect them by not being ready for the future. It´s something you see irl so many times. People taking history just as something to know and not really process or learn from. And that´s the problem with not learning. You just repeat the same mistakes over and over. That scene was GENIOUS!!

I just finished Kincaid's pov in the next chapter and LMAO YOU WON'T BELIEVE THIS…

I think Rafe is one of the few people (perhaps other than Alec) who worries about the next generation in that sense. Like not about their safety or whatever, but about their future and what kind of people they are going to be etc.

Maybe it's a Consul thing but I'm glad at least they're thinking that way.

[dreaming-of-mossballs]

Bamboo for a Bashful Captain - (Gepard x Reader) - Chapter 4

Summary: Serval stops into the shop, and you and Vaska go to the cafe Gepard showed you.

▸ Genre(s): Fluff, a sprinkling of angst

▸ Word Count: 15k in total, 3.1k for this Chapter

▸ Tags: Gepard x reader

▸ Warnings: Food mention, possible ooc, reader is shorter than Gepard and slightly fem coded, explicit pronouns aren’t used but Serval calls you a doll,

A/N: When I was revising this thing, it started raining really hard. I turned all the lights off and put on some lo-fi beats, and everything was perfect for a solid half hour.

MASTERLIST (also link to series)

A few days later, you were sitting on the edge of your mattress, waiting for Vaska to reply to a text you sent earlier that morning. Two tickets to the Golden Theater laid on your bedside table. Your phone buzzed and your hand darted to pick it up nervously. 

From: Vaska

Vaska: Sorry, I can't come to the theater today! 

Vaska: I haven’t had time to reread Tale of the Winterlands lately. I wanted to get to that today.

You: That’s all right! The tickets were discounted, so I just figured I would get them! Enjoy your reading!

Vaska: Wait, I am available for lunch though. 

Vaska: It feels like forever since I’ve seen you! 

You: Vaska, we work together.

Vaska: Yes. And?

You: …

You: Ok, I’ll be there.

You sighed, shaking your head. It had been a bad idea to buy an extra ticket, even if they WERE discounted for the final day of thIs play they were showing. 

Well, worst case scenario, I have a fancy piece of paper I can hang up, but it’ll be a shame if this ticket gets wasted, you thought to yourself.

You chewed on your nails. Should I ask Serval? She might still be busy fixing her device. I’d better not… 

What about Gepard? Maybe I could pay him back for giving me that tour, You flicked the screen to Gepard’s contact info, but you noticed the name in the slot read “Gerard” instead. 

Oh shoot, better fix that,

You tapped the screen to edit his name, but hit the “call” button by mistake. 

“Nono wait no—,” you gasped. Your thumb darted to the red icon in the corner, but you heard someone on the other line pick up ridiculously quickly. 

“Hello? Gepard Landau speaking,” His voice was clear on the other end. Your nervous system threatened to wrangle its way out of your body that very second. 

“Hi! Hello! Um—, I’m really sorry,” you stuttered. “I clicked the call button by mistake,”

“Oh..? That’s all right,” There was no marked change in tone when he spoke again. He was standing in the office of the new Supreme Guardian, right next to some stacks of papers. Pela peeked her head out from behind one of them.

“I was meaning to ask you about something though,” you blurted out, grabbing your beret from the side table. “I happen to have an extra ticket to the Golden Theater. There’s a showing today at two o’clock. I'm sorry it’s on short notice, but would you like to come with me?” 

Gepard clasped his phone in a death grip.

“Ahem—, yes. That works for me. I don't have any urgent meetings today. Can I meet you on the steps outside the building?” He asked. 

“Yep! Sounds good! I’ll see you— YEOW!!!” Your foot smacked your dresser as you spun towards the door. You yelped as your phone flew out of your hands and landed on the ground a solid meter away. 

You groaned, rolling onto your back and sitting up, tears springing to your eyes. 

“Shit—! Aeons, that hurt,” you winced.

“(Y/N)? (Y/N)?? Is everything all right?” You heard Gepard say loudly. 

“Y-yeah. I tripped, s’all,” you grunted, placing a hand on the wall to keep yourself steady as you rose to your feet. “That definitely woke me up,”

“Take care of yourself,” he sighed, relieved.

“Yep, yep! I’ll see you— soon!” You choked out and hung up frantically. You placed both hands against the wall and hit your head against it repeatedly, groaning in shame. 

———

You were in the middle of fixing the broken cash register when a familiar blonde-haired woman walked through the door.

“Serval!” Your head shot up as you gave her an excited wave. “Good to see you! What brings you to our shop today?” 

She strolled over to the counter, where various pieces of equipment were sprawled out on the surface. 

“Mornin’ (Y/N)! Molly and I were just RAVING about how the flowers Gepard got us have livened up the place!” Serval tossed her silky hair over her shoulder. “We were thinking of buying some more, since we could really use some more color in our lives,”

“I'm sure flowers are better than soot,” you giggled. “What did the Ministry of Education say about the experiment you were running?”

“Huh?” Serval looked bewildered. 

“The research project? Y’know, the one that exploded??” A shadow of confusion flickered across your face.

“Oh! Yes, that one! They were gracious enough to give me an extension.” She shook her head up and down aggressively, her eyes rattling in her skull.

“I'm glad to hear it!” You wiped your forehead in relief, turning to some pots resting on a cabinet. “So… as for the flowers… I know you have the purple ones, so why not go with yellow? Purple can represent maturity and elegance, and yellow might round it out a bit.” You ran your fingers across the wood.

“Although, if you'd like to keep the place feeling more formal, you could go with these blue ones here,” you quipped. “They match Molly’s hair,” 

You lifted up the planter that held said flowers, which were white on the inside, but faded into a dark teal on the edges.

Serval reached out to touch them tentatively, her eyes flicking towards something behind you.

“Hmm… what’s that one over there?” She said inquisitively.

“Oh--!” You spun around to see what she was pointing at. It was a wooden window box, filled to the brim with flowers of every hue.

“That’s one of our clearance boxes! We had a mix up with the seed packets during planting time, so they’re 30% off. Pretty interesting looking, right?” You lifted up the box, your chest heaving with effort. 

“Definitely.” She peered over the walls of the box with an approving smile. “I'll take this one,”

“Really? Are you sure?” 

“One hundo percent. This one speaks to me,” she mused.

“Fair enough. Whatever pleases the Rock Star of Belobog.” You shook your head and shrugged.

“Oh please, you flatter me,” she chuckled. You pushed the components of the cash register into a neat pile to make way for the flowers. 

A ghost of a smile crossed your lips as you recalled how painstakingly long Gepard had spent picking up the flowers for his sister, and just how spontaneously she had chosen hers. 

I can’t believe I know people equally as incredible, but as different as night and day, you contemplated.

“So, (Y/N),” Serval piped up, snapping you out of your thoughts. “You seem awfully chipper today. Did something good happen?”

Maybe something involving a certain bashful captain? She thought with a sly smile. 

The air in the room seemed to turn pink as you swayed happily. 

“Well, business has been skyrocketing lately with the weather getting warmer.” You rested your head in the palm of your hand thoughtfully. “More people feel like they have the means to take care of flowers! In fact, there’s been a ton of people coming in today,”

“Awwh, that's wonderful!” She said joyfully. “...anything else?”

Her smile grew wider. Serval could almost sense there was something you weren’t telling her. You gulped. 

“Um— well, Gepard and I are heading to the theater today,” you said, a little quieter than the way you had talked previously. “I wanted to thank him for guiding me around the plaza a few days back,”

“What??? Why didn't you lead with that??” She slammed her hands on the desk, flabbergasted. You flinched and shook your head. 

“It’s not THAT big of a deal,” you brushed it off sheepishly. “Just a little outing, nothing more to it,”

Serval’s bottom lip quivered with something between joy and rage.

“It is too!” she argued. “My brother lives and breathes his work. I can't believe someone is finally helping him loosen up a bit,” She sniffled dramatically. “I think I'm getting teary-eyed!” 

You handed her the hefty window box with a smirk. “If you say so. Well then, it was great seeing you! Take good care of them,” 

“Of course! Have fun on your date!!!” Serval sang, pushing the door open.

“Wait—,”

She gave you a salute with her free hand and slipped through the crack in the door before it shut. 

Well, that was weird, to say the least,

———

“... and seventy-five grams high nutrient fertilizer,” Gepard murmured, reading off the slip of paper you had given him. He scooped some fine powder from the burlap sack, lowering himself to eye-level with the plant with the meticulousness of a scientist. 

His blue eyes were fixed on the measuring spoon, tilting it onto the plant when his sister barged in. She was carrying a box of flowers, almost slamming the door into the wall with how much foece she put in. Gepard flinched so hard he flung the spoon into the air and it hit the ceiling with a “thud”.

“Geppie!!!” Serval shouted affectionately as the spoon landed on the hardwood. “A little birdie told me that you have a date at the theater today!!” 

She sauntered in and set down the flower box on his desk. He looked on sadly as bits of soil fell onto his paperwork.

“A d-date? Where’d you get that from? And how did you even get in here!? I thought the Landau—,” he stumbled over his own words and she cut him off, too elated to notice how she was trampling his attempts to speak.

“I stopped by the flower shop this morning. You never mentioned anything of the sort!” She swayed excitedly.

“That’s because I found out today,” Gepard grumbled. “They merely had an extra ticket.” He bent down to gather some of the fertilizer into a pile on the floor.

Unless… they said it was a date..? He felt hope rising in his chest but he quickly squashed it. Hope? No, he wasn’t hoping. Of course not. 

Serval smirked, stepping closer to him. 

“Don't think I don't notice how utterly smitten you are.” She looked at her nails with a frivolous expression. “You know, how your face gets all rosy, your voice gets higher, and you listen extra hard when they speak?” 

Gepard’s lips pulled back into a thin line. He glanced at the bamboo plant one last time before spinning around and dropping onto the bed, the mattress straining with the sudden weight.

The Captain rested his head in his hands, heaving a sigh as his blue eyes stared onto the floor. 

“Is it… that obvious?” He said quietly.

Serval widened her eyes in surprise. Usually her brother stood his ground and brushed her off. She took a break from her teasing to plop down on the feather bed next to him. 

“Maybe just to me,” she answered. She leaned back and stared at the ceiling. 

“After all, I've known you long enough that I've never seen you care about anything this much. Your sister gets a little worried sometimes! You practically live and breathe your work.” Serval leaned slightly off the bed to get a closer look at his face, analyzing his features.

“And, as much as I love to tease you about it, I’m really happy my cute little brother has found someone he wants to offer his heart to,”

She rifled a hand through his hair teasingly, sending golden strands everywhere. Gepard’s hands shot up defensively with a grunt. They sat in silence for a bit, until she spoke up again.

“Also, I’ve noticed you've gotten pretty good at taking care of plants now too! Look at you, my little gardener!” Said Serval. “Well, I’ll get out of your hair now. I doubt the Landau Residence really wants me around anyways.” She shrugged, picking up her box. She kicked the door open unceremoniously and skipped out into the hallway, leaving a plethora of confused faces in her wake. 

Gepard sighed. She hadn’t let him get a single word in edgewise. It was the trademark Landau stubbornness, after all.

———

Vaska’s stream of praises for the cafe you had chosen today were endless. She had the expression of someone who had just won the lottery as she bit into a cinnamon strudel. 

“Mmm, thish ish sooo delicious...” She licked the sugary dust off her fingers in satisfaction, wiping her lips and picking up another one. “How’d you find this place?”

“A friend introduced me,” you replied as you sipped your raspberry mint tea. “I'm surprised you didn't know about it, actually,”

“Well, I'm trying to avoid spending money because I’m saving for the upcoming sequel of my favorite book!” She giggled. The air seemed to be filled with sparkles all of a sudden. 

“Is it to Tale of the Winterlands?” You asked, raising your eyebrows. 

“Bingo!”

“Aren't you afraid of it being confiscated?” 

“Not anymore,” Vaska crossed her arms with a smile. “It’s pending approval. Anyways, I didn't know you had friends outside of the flower shop. I'm glad you're finally branching out!” 

She rested her index finger on her cheek before continuing. “Although… Meg is gonna have your head if you keep coming back late after deliveries,”

“Gah, I know, I know. I just get so caught up talking to one of the clients. The friend I was just talking about,”

“Hmph. I'm just trying to keep you out of the fire, you know. On the other hand, she sounds delightful! What’s she like?”

“Um,” you paused. “He’s a guard,”

“A guard?” Her eyes glittered as she leaned across the table. “No way. An Underworlder and a guard, huh? What an interesting pair!” 

You chuckled. “I guess you're right. He can be a little awkward sometimes, but he's very genuine and diligent!” 

“As all good guards are, of course,” she nodded. A surprised expression flickered across your face.

“Vaska… Is there something you want to tell me?” You jested. “I didn't know you had a type. Besides the musician, of course,”

You've never seen someone’s expression go deadpan so quickly. 

“No. Nope. You've got it all wrong!!” She crossed her forearms in an “X”. 

“The idea of romance isn't half bad, but being in it sounds way too hard. If anything, my type would be more like Anna, from—,”

“Tale of the Winterlands,” you interjected again. She hummed in approval.

“That’s understandable,” you said. “You’re both very independent,”

“Aww, you think so?” A rosy blush spread across your co-worker’s face. “It's so nice to have a friend like you,”

She fiddled with the straw in her drink. “Anyways… what's the name of your guard friend?” You took a sip of your own before replying.

“Gepard,” 

Vaska’s jaw dropped through the floor.

“WHAT?!?” She stood up and slammed her hands onto the table. You recoiled in shock, her exclamation almost blowing your beret off. Heads turned towards your table as you panicked.

“Shh! Vaska, keep it down!” You hissed, placing your hands on her forearms in an attempt to soothe her. She sat back down and began to chew on her fingernails.

“Gepard… Gepard Landau??”

“Uh-huh,”

“Blonde hair, blue eyes, built like a tank?”

“Yeah, what about him? He’s not like a serial killer or something, right??”

Your mind flashed back to the times he directed you to the inside of the sidewalk or smiled tenderly at the flowers in the shop when he thought no one was looking.

No way—,

“No, goodness gracious no. Of course not! Gepard is the furthest thing from a serial killer you could get.” She shook her head vigorously, her beret flying off and drifting to the floor. She leaned down from her chair to grab it, her face still red from shouting.

“Then WHY is this such a big deal??” You inquired with an exasperated look on your face. 

“It’s because HE'S THE CAPTAIN OF THE SILVERMANE GUARDS,” she spat out in a single breath. She let out a wheeze as she dropped her head onto the table.

It was your turn for your jaw to drop. 

“Th--, Th-the Captain?!? Oh Aeons…” you stammered, biting on a mint leaf. You winced as the icy juices spread across your tongue. 

“Didn't you notice no other ‘guard’ in the area looked like him?”

“I mean, yes. But I thought the guards OUTSIDE the city wore stuff like that too,” you said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear nervously.

“Oh by the PRESERVATION.” She ran a palm across her face. 

“And— and I did notice people gave us some weird looks when we danced in the square—,”

“You DANCED WITH HIM???”

Vaska was about to rip her hair out. You buried your face in your arms and nodded. 

“...Vaska, does this mean I have to stop hanging out with him?” You said quietly.

She grabbed you by the cheeks and pulled you close.

“NO. Of course not. It’s just that.. I’d hate for you to be involved in some high class squabble or something,” she snorted. “You know how easily agitated the nobles are,”

“Er—, Not really?”

“Well, they are! Who knows, you probably already have a bunch of jealous suitors!” 

You held your palms out to placate her. “I mean, Gepard is great and all, but it’s really not like that. He values his work more than anything,” 

“You can't ever be too safe.” She gave you a warning glance. “If rumors get spread, and you lose your job, who would I look forward to talking to every day??” 

“I’d still come and visit!” You protested. “And I hardly believe Meg would kick me out because of a bunch of silly rumors,” you said flatly.

“That is NOT the issue,” she groaned. You reached out and clasped her hands.

“Don't worry, Vaska. I'm gonna be careful, okay?” 

“I trust you, but just know I will be terrified. Forever. ‘Til the end of days,” she bemoaned. 

“I get where you’re coming from,” you reassured her. “Just remember, this is my decision. I’d never take on anything I couldn’t handle!”

She pouted, stretching her arm across the cafe table and snagging your tea. She took a sip and handed it back to you.

“Ugh. Too much milk,” she scowled before quickly returning to her normal self. “Now, Tell me what being friends with the Captain of the Silvermane Guards is like…” 

You laughed gently. 

“Of course. I'd be happy to,”

———

Later, after you had left the cafe, you opened up your phone and sent a text to Serval. 

To: Serval

You: Serval, why did no one bother telling me that your brother is the captain of the Silvermane Guards???

Serval: …belobog’s last bastion of hope?

You: Do NOT avoid the question

Serval: ahahaha

Serval: sorry, sorry

Serval: I thought you knew

You: I did not.

Serval: oops

Serval: don’t worry, it’s not like he's any less dorky when he's commanding platoons or anything

You: SERVAL

Read at 13:22 pm ✅

Seriously???

You just about threw your phone across the street. 

2023 - Oven-Mitt-On-A-Bookshelf - Do not repost/translate without my permission - NO AI

[purrincess-chat]

hi, i was wondering if you could give some tips on how to rekindle your passion for your wip. i wrote a story, went as far as to write 90k and then boom, no passion for the story at all. I do have the fic all planned out, but i don't know how to get back into it. if you could help me with it, it'd be amazing, thanks.

That is a good question, and as someone who juggles numerous wips all the time, I have a few tips that work for me.

1. Reread what you have. 90k is a lot to read, so maybe start with the last thing you wrote to refamiliarize yourself with the story and where you left off.

2. Read back over your outline/plans and try to picture where your story is going.

3. Go back and edit past chapters. I've found for me that sometimes the easiest way to get back into the headspace for writing something is to go back and edit because it gets my brain thinking about the story and gets me physically working on it.

4. Get someone else to read it and give feedback. Even if someone isn't versed in grammar rules or writing at all, having someone just tell you what they liked about the story can be helpful in building back motivation. My beta does both for me. She corrects mistakes she finds but also leaves comments screaming about stuff that happens in the story itself. Having someone in your corner to hype you up does wonders for your motivation.

5. Make a playlist of songs you associate with the story. Music is always a huge source of inspiration for me, and there are certain songs I associate with characters or ships or scenarios, so listening to them while thinking about those things can help get me back into the mood for certain stories.

6. Work on something else. At the end of the day, there are times when we do just detach from a story. Maybe something wasn't working out the way we wanted or another idea is far more appealing in the moment. There are no rules saying that if you put a story down for 6 weeks, 6 months, 6 years that you have to consider it totally abandoned. You can go back to something literally any time. I have wips from years ago that I still plan to finish eventually. Sometimes you just have to wait for that spark of inspiration to come back, and sometimes you find that when you start working on other things. Maybe you write a scene in a new story that reminds you of something that happened in the other story. Maybe you get stuck on that story and start to miss the other one. In essence, don't sweat it too much. Especially if it's just a fic and not something you're trying to publish on a deadline.

Those are just a few of my tips that I find usually work for me. Another thing to consider is whether the story is something you want to finish or not. I've actually abandoned wips before with no intentions of finishing them at this point. I may change my mind another day, but for right now, I've left them where they are. It happens sometimes. I look at everything I write as an opportunity to learn and improve, so even if one idea doesn't pan out, I can take what I've learned and apply it to the next project. Writing is a process, and that process looks different for everyone, but hopefully at least one of these tips will work for you. Good luck!

[villanesus]

writers asks: 1, 6, 9, 11, 25, 30, 40, 48, 58, 69, 92, 94, 99.

I honestly would like to hear all your answers put i picked my favorite questions.

Pistachio!! Sooo many questions, I'll do my best.

1. do you know how you want the story to end when you start, or are you just stumbling through the figurative wilderness hoping to find a road?

I usually know where I want my characters to end up, but that doesn't always equate to a proper ending. Endings have always been hard for me to articulate. As a kid in school, I got feedback from a primary school teacher once that I needed to include something at the end of my stories to indicate that it was really the conclusion. My autistic ass starting ending every single story I wrote with the sentence, "And that is all." 😂

6. do you have any kind of consistent writing schedule or just hoping for the best?

Not really. I write when I've got a decent chunk of time open (at least an hour) and I'm feeling writery feelings. Some nights, most weekends. During nanowrimo I write during my lunch break, mostly out of necessity to meet word count.

9. in an ideal world where you’re already super successful and published, would you want to see a tv or movie adaptation of your work? why or why not?

I'd be pretty content just to be successfully published, BUT I'm definitely not turning down an opportunity for Jodie Comer to option one of my books for a TV series a la Big Swiss so I can meet her and be awkward. 🥴

11. what’s something neat you’ve learned while doing research for something you were writing? also, how much do you worry about doing research in general?

I do worry quite a bit about research because I know how jarring it can be as the reader when an author writes something that is pure nonsense wrt something I know about. That said, I don't always know what I don't know, so I'm sure I miss all kinds of things.

The neatest thing I've ever stumbled upon is escaping me right now, but the most recent thing that sticks out was stumbling upon the gem of the towns Sappho and Beaver near Forks for my goosey Killing Eve/Twilight AU (Evenfall). I found that far too funny.

25. what’s your revision or rewriting process like?

I usually start each writing session be rereading the last section I've written and I catch a lot of edits there. Once I'm reasonably confident about a full chapter, I actually listen to it twice using a text-to-speech feature. I find I catch a lot more of my mistakes when I listen than when I read with my eyes.

And then I immediately find like three more mistakes as soon as I share or publish what I've written. Because of course.

30. most inspirational quote you’ve ever read or heard that’s still important to you.

I'm (perhaps weirdly) not big on inspiration or inspirational quotes. And, as noted in one of the other ask games, I'm a little bit of a jerk? So, my favorite quote is actually the running bit in Candide by Voltaire where they make fun of the "best of all possible worlds" philosophy. You will catch me in real life regularly punching down on things by saying, "In this, the best of all possible worlds." I guess this jives with my "things suck, bring a bat" philosophy.

40. best piece of feedback you’ve ever gotten.

I had a computer science professor who took me aside once and told me I should write textbooks because students would actually engage with and learn from my writing. I really like to explain and to teach, so this was maximum flattery for me.

At the moment, though, there's a person who is mostly commenting screaming and keyboard smashes on Evenfall and I'm really enjoying that. 🤣

48. do you reread your own stories?

Not once they're finished. I read and reread as part of my editing process, by the end I'm a bit sick of it. And if too much time goes by and I come back to read, my style/voice/skill has changed and then I feel sad-cringe about my older work.

58. what is the last thing that a fic made you google when you were writing it?

"which movie did edward and bella have sex?" 🫠 hahaha

69 (nice). how do you write emotional scenes? do you ever feel what the characters feel?

I find this challenging because I want to shout at the characters to do the "right" thing and not necessarily the authentic emotional response that they would have? For example, character is going to misunderstand and be hurt or character is angry and won't listen to apology—it kills me to write that sometimes.

The how...eh, I just write stuff and step back and see if it feels authentic. I try to draw from my own experiences and emotions, but can't always tell how well that translates for others because my emotional processing is maybe non-typical as a non-neurotypical individual.

92. first, second, or third person?

Third person is typically my jam as a reader and a writer, though I do love me some unreliable narrator first-person works. My big struggle as a writer is the different flavors of third person—omniscient, objective, partial/limited. I'm bad at consistency here.

94. do you prefer dialogue or description?

Dialogue is really fun for me to write. My favorite thing though is internal monologue? Perhaps a side effect of all the journaling.

99. was being a writer a dream of yours when you were little? or did it spring up when your older? or is it just a hobby?

I've been writing stories since I was a little kid and I've always loved the idea of just being a novelist or writer. But I am both pessimistic and pragmatic. I doubt I'd be happy if writing was my full-time job—making a living on this would be too much pressure. It's a lovely hobby and if I ever write something that other people are excited to read, I'll just be real chuffed about it.

Phew, we made it to the end!

[keepoffthetardis]

it's time to play tag games again! today we're putting the "on repeat" playlist on spotify on shuffle and listing the first ten songs that come up. i was tagged by @quensty and i am tagging @prongs1997 @corazonlicantropo @bandedbulbussnarfblat @enterprisery and @holodeckprotocols as well as anyone else who would like to talk about the music they've been listening to lately!

Wilson (Expensive Mistakes) - Fall Out Boy: This is the only song I actually like off MANIA. "I-I was - I was - I was gonna say something that would solve all our problems, but then I got drunk and I forgot what I was talking about" is an incredible note to start on and it only gets better from there. Fall Out Boy is my favorite band and I am out of my mind excited to see them in Chicago.

What Is Dead May Never Die - Ramin Djawadi: I'm actually surprised it was this one and not The Throne Is Mine. One thing about me is that I like listening to classical music while I read, and I was rereading A Song of Ice and Fire recently. Thus: the soundtrack for Game of Thrones. Also, Ramin Djawadi is a fantastic composer. Loved what he did with Westworld and Person of Interest.

I Am Hers, She Is Mine - Ramin Djawadi: We're back on the Game of Thrones soundtrack. Now I'm worried this list is gonna be all GoT. Anyway: I love sad and/or emotional strings. Probably my favorite section of the orchestra.

Daylight - David Kushner: I was listening to this much more recently than the others. "Oh I love it and I hate it at the same time / You and I drink the poison from the same vine" gets me every time. I love daylight imagery, as evidenced by my obsession with the way it gets used in Black Sails.

Warrior of Light - Ramin Djawadi: I'M BACK IN THE FUCKING BUILDING AGAIN. I'm gonna have to start skipping these if I want to have any discussion of my music taste at all. Anyway, when I was rereading A Song of Ice and Fire this time I started paying a lot more attention to Stannis and the whole arc with what I'll call "Team Dragonstone" (so, him, Selyse and the other Florents, Davos, Melisandre, etc.) and I thought it was a really interesting look at what could have otherwise been a very boring character but because we see him exclusively through other people's eyes, he becomes layered. To me anyway.

End Titles - Irwin Koshner: This one is the end of The Sound of Music! Which is something I have loved for years, but I recently started revisiting it because of Ted Lasso (and a fic that I'll never finish) who said that.

My Favorite Things - Julie Andrews: See above. Also I had a HUGE crush on her about a year before I figured out that I was bisexual which was a really interesting time in my life. I still do, but I used to too. Top 5 compliments I've ever gotten in my life was about ten or twelve years ago when a family friend told me I sounded like her.

Anna - The Menzingers: My sister just introduced me to this song about a month ago! It's so fun and sweet. Listening to it reminds of reading The Name of the Wind (because she and I did that together as well, right after she showed me this song) and driving around our hometown looking for books and a Mother's Day gift for our mom. "This place ain't the same without you Anna" INDEED

Climb Every Mountain - Peggy Wood: I think we'd all like a dream that will need all the love we can give every day of our life for as long as we live. Enough said.

Kyoto (Copycat Killer Version) - Phoebe Bridgers: This was another one that my sister introduced me to. This song has everything: sad emotional strings. Deep connection to younger sibling. "I wanted to see the world through your eyes and then it happened / Then I changed my mind". You would not believe the number of Succession edits I've seen with this song in the last couple of weeks.

That was fun! I should do it again when I'm fixating on something that isn't a TV show soundtrack. And speaking of, the finally tally of of GoT season 2 skips was: 1. This is what I get for falling asleep to it so much.